Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1587

Wow. Jongli Hyeong could only think of one word. What he was seeing was beyond shocking.

A giant handprint was pressed into the dry ground. It was huge, like a mark from a giant person, and it felt powerful, almost holy.

Jongli Hyeong’s jaw dropped. He stared, unable to speak for a moment.

“That… that’s Abbot,” he finally managed to say.

The deep marks in the ground were amazing to see, but knowing Abbot made them almost make sense. Abbot was the leader of the famous Shaolin Temple, a place known for incredible fighters. In the world of martial arts, Shaolin was like the highest mountain, and Abbot was at the very top.

Even the older monks at Shaolin were incredibly strong, better than most masters from other groups. That’s how powerful Shaolin was. And Abbot? Everyone knew he was one of the strongest fighters in the world, maybe even the strongest.

But it wasn’t just Abbot’s strength that shocked Jongli Hyeong. It was *how* he was fighting. Shaolin had many different fighting styles, called the Seventy-Two Arts. Most people could barely learn one in their whole life. But Abbot was using them all, one after another, with every move he made! It was like the different styles were exploding out of him. He moved so smoothly, it was hard to even see what he was doing.

Each of the Seventy-Two Arts was a different way of fighting. They used different kinds of inner power and movements. But Abbot was using them all together, like they were just parts of one single style. Jongli Hyeong wondered, how much training did Abbot have to do to fight like this? It was unbelievable.

“Was *this* the real power of Shaolin?” Jongli Hyeong’s fingers trembled. He imagined himself facing Abbot. How long could he even survive? Abbot was more than just a famous leader. He was an incredible fighter. Had Jongli Hyeong been so focused on Abbot’s title that he forgot how dangerous he truly was?

“If I try to stop this fight now…” Jongli Hyeong thought, “I won’t even have a good reason.” Jang Il-So was the leader of the Four Evil Alliances, a dangerous group. Normally, you wouldn’t worry about a fair fight with someone like him. But if Abbot just completely destroyed Jang Il-So, anyone who tried to step in would look foolish. Peng Yeop, standing nearby, bit his lip, thinking the same thing.

“This is bad…” Jongli Hyeong thought. It sounded crazy, but he actually wanted Jang Il-So to fight better. If Jang Il-So lost too quickly, Shaolin would get all the credit. The Joint Alliance and the Peng Family would look weak, like they had lost people for nothing. People would blame them for sending their fighters to die for no reason. “That can’t happen!” Jongli Hyeong felt worried and angry. He couldn’t think of any way to fix this right now. He squeezed his fist tight.

“Even if Jang Il-So is losing, fighting Abbot…” Just then, *thud*. Jang Il-So, who had been thrown back by Abbot’s palm, grabbed the ground hard.

“Hmm…” He slowly stood up. His face paint was smeared, and his crown, which looked important, was gone. His red robe was ripped and dirty. He looked a mess.

The cuts on Jang Il-So didn’t seem too bad. Shaolin’s fighting style, using inner power, was said to be both gentle and brutal. It could hurt someone badly inside, even if they looked okay outside. But then, Jongli Hyeong blinked. Jang Il-So’s face and eyes, even messy as they were, looked almost the same as before. He still seemed bored, tired, and lazy. It was like the injuries didn’t matter to him. Or even worse, like he was used to being hurt. Jongli Hyeong felt a cold shiver run down his back. Something felt very wrong.

“Oh, dear…” Jang Il-So said, like he was talking about someone else’s problem. He calmly brushed his hair out of his face.

“I look terrible.” He had just been beaten badly, but he acted completely calm. Was he pretending? Just being stubborn? No, Jongli Hyeong realized. It wasn’t fake.

Abbot’s face became serious.

“Are you saying that because I’m an old monk who doesn’t care how he looks? You have no respect. How can you talk about kindness like that?” Jang Il-So stood up. Blood dripped from him onto the ground.

“Still,” Jang Il-So said, “you must be more than just a talker to be Abbot of Shaolin. I almost thought you just talked your way to the top.”

“Amitabha,” Abbot prayed quietly, watching Jang Il-So calmly. *How can he be so relaxed?* Abbot wondered. It didn’t make sense. Abbot’s attacks had hurt him. The wounds and his pale face were real. So why was he so calm? Something was wrong. Then Abbot understood. Jang Il-So’s calmness wasn’t about strength. *He’s used to this,* Abbot realized. If Abbot was in Jang Il-So’s place, he would be ashamed. But Jang Il-So didn’t seem to care. Because he had been in this situation many times before. Abbot understood now. How many fights Jang Il-So had fought. How many stronger enemies he had beaten. How many times his group, the Myriad Man Clan, which started small in a place called Guizhou, had survived and become powerful. For Jang Il-So, this was just another day.

But… “Your luck ends today,” Abbot warned.

“Hmm?” Jang Il-So said.

“Everything ends. And after that…”

“Ptooey!” Before Abbot could finish, Jang Il-So spat out blood. Dark blood soaked into the ground. Jang Il-So laughed.

“Ah, sorry. Gross, right? I don’t really like blood.”

“Defeated warlord,” Abbot said, his voice cold. Jang Il-So’s pale eyes stared at Abbot. Then, he smiled slowly.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself. This is just starting, isn’t it?” *Crack*. A sound came from Jang Il-So’s fist.

“Luck, you say…” He chuckled. Then, he vanished, moving so fast it looked like he had disappeared.

“Just watch me!” Jang Il-So shouted. *Boom!* He moved with terrifying speed. Blue energy flowed from his fist, like wings spreading out.

“Useless,” Abbot said firmly, his face set. He took a strong stance, ready to fight. He would use the Arhat Fist, the most basic Shaolin move. It wasn’t fancy, but that’s what made it so strong. It was simple, but perfect, with no weaknesses. It was the best way to fight someone as unpredictable as Jang Il-So. It showed Abbot’s determination to defeat Jang Il-So right here, right now. *Gooooooo!* Abbot stood with his legs wide, ready, like a mountain that could not be moved. Jang Il-So charged straight at him, without fear.

Jang Il-So’s fist shot out straight. Abbot’s arm blocked it perfectly. *Wham!* The impact shook the air, like a bomb going off. But Abbot didn’t move. His arm was like a wall, stopping Jang Il-So’s fist completely. Jang Il-So’s wild energy couldn’t break through Abbot’s powerful inner strength.

But instantly, Jang Il-So pulled his hand back faster than anyone could see. Then, *bang! wham! bang!* He punched Abbot’s arm three times in a row. Each punch was like an explosion. Abbot himself didn’t even flinch. But the ground under his feet couldn’t take the force of Jang Il-So’s punches. It started to crack and break apart.

For a moment, Abbot looked surprised. Shaolin fighting was based on strong legs. You had to stand firm to use your power. But the ground under Abbot’s feet had become soft, like mud. He couldn’t get a good footing. It was a small thing, but in a fight between experts, even a tiny problem could become huge, like a snowball rolling downhill and getting bigger and bigger.

Abbot quickly jumped back, trying to get his balance again. But Jang Il-So was right behind him, like he was stuck to Abbot’s shadow. It was a tiny opening, too fast for most people to even see. But Jang Il-So grabbed that chance like a wild animal.

“Hap!” Abbot punched out instantly. Twelve punches flew at Jang Il-So, so fast they blurred. It was a simple move, but from Abbot, it was like magic. But because Abbot couldn’t stand properly, the Arhat Fist wasn’t as strong as it could be. *Thud!* A quick sound of impact. But it was actually twelve punches hitting at almost the same time. Jang Il-So had blocked all of Abbot’s punches. His eyes gleamed, cold and cruel, like a snake’s.

“You!” Abbot started to move again, but Jang Il-So kicked him upwards. Abbot quickly pulled back his leg, which was aimed low, and blocked the kick with his knee. *Wham!* It was a perfect block, but the force of the kick still pushed Abbot up into the air. Even with all his inner power, he couldn’t stop himself from being lifted.

“You know what?” Jang Il-So’s creepy voice whispered in Abbot’s ear.

“No matter how strong you are…” *Hwaaaah!* Blue flames burst from Jang Il-So’s hands.

“…if you can’t use it, it’s like you don’t have it at all!” Jang Il-So’s flaming hands rushed towards Abbot, like a wild animal attacking. Abbot roared and shot out white energy from his finger – the One Finger Zen technique. It was a good move. When two fighters are equally strong, finger attacks are hard to block with just your palm. And Abbot’s finger energy was incredibly powerful. But it was also a mistake. Jang Il-So smiled as he saw the finger energy coming. Then, he let the power in his hand go loose. Abbot’s eyes widened. “What?” *Crack!* The sharp finger energy easily went right through Jang Il-So’s hand. If Jang Il-So had tried to block it with his inner power, he would have been pushed back, but not hurt. And Abbot could have kept attacking. But Jang Il-So chose to let himself get hurt. A hole appeared in his hand, but he got what he wanted – he stole Abbot’s chance to attack. “How naive,” Jang Il-So said. He saw Abbot’s hand stop for a moment after using the finger technique. He wrapped his hands in flames again. And then, the flames exploded onto Abbot’s chest. *Kawaaaang!* A blue flame, like a snake, bit into the chest of Abbot, the living Buddha, a man filled with holy power.